


God, sing for the helpless (I'm the one you left behind)

by solarift



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: ...and "break it" but no death!, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Character displays classic symptoms, Collage, Dark, Dark fiction, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, Fan Soundtracks, Fanart, Fix-It, Forgive Me, Harry Hart becomes Arthur, Imprisonment, Lady of the Lake | Vivenne (Kingsman), Light BDSM, M/M, Manipulation, Mentions of characters from canon, Non-Consensual, Original Character(s), Psychiatrist Observations (by an amateur), Psychological, Psychological Drama, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, READ PRE-NOTES, Rape, Statesmen (Kingsman), Stockholm Syndrome, Thought this would be 3ish chapters with fanarts, Trauma Bonding, Triggers, Unreliable Narrator, and it'll be better probably cause new ideas yay!, cause originally this was going to be an open ended ending...or whatever, heed warnings, nope gonna be continued, read the tags, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 00:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8034964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarift/pseuds/solarift
Summary: “The best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make sure he never knows he’s in prison.” –Fyodor Dostoyevsky





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FrozenPenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenPenguin/gifts).



> ******PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE TAGS******

 

 

The Lady of the Lake – further shortened to the informal codename Vivenne – sat poised, leg casually draped over the other as she calmly watched the slouched form in front of her.

* * *

**Progression Notes                              Patient** _#01933_ **  
**

**Time:** 0842 –

**Description:** Utilized silence after initial greeting; seat offered; patient sat in the same chair for third time in a row despite my having moved it closer to the window, angled 25 degrees further to the left, prior to our appointment. –V

* * *

He’d come like a hero condemned to an untimely death- feet shuffling his movements, gaze searching every corner for a trap of some kind. If anything, Vivenne supposed- categorizing a stray twitch; she’d ask about that later- the paranoia itself was something of a relief, if only for the rather simplistic reasoning that the young man was consistently exhibiting similar patterns of apprehension that all agents tended to when sent to be ‘shrinked’. After all, there was no one person employed under the Kingsman name that would ever be cleared for active duty if they evaded either a sporadic or routine psych eval with Vivenne.

An agent’s psychological health was just as if not more important than their physical health (Vivenne suspected that even Morgana, Head of Medical would agree- if only for the sole reason that it gave him less to deal with in the end). And sometimes it was the mind that could be more damaged than the body in a traumatic event.

With that thought she blinked once, then twice in quick succession. The optical signal was confirmed as received when the next moment a precariously placed file slipped from the top of the pile near the ventilation system, its weight ensuring the sudden jarring slap upon impact with her marble flooring.

The reaction is instantaneous.

Vivenne feigned surprise, turning toward the sound. “My apologies.” She stood to pick up the file, adding it back to her otherwise meticulous filing system. She took her seat again. “With the transfer from buildings and the plethora of new employees my work has inevitably tripled,” she explained, quite sure already that the man before her was itching to call her on the farce.

Yet he remained silent, his eyes still not meeting hers as they fixated. It was the sudden appearance of the twitch in his hand that had tipped her off that her experiment even worked.

“Are you nervous?”

No answer was immediately forthcoming so she too remained silent, opting instead to continue observation, scrutinizing every movement, every twitch, every breath. His gaze dragged up the length of the two-way mirror, his breath evening out. Calm, like he was asleep despite his eye’s unfocused – though open- gaze. In all reality he was falling back into memory, into a time not so far in the past that he could not- as of yet- forget it or push the thoughts off to mull over later.

No, she thought, eyes narrowing in as she noticed his leg bouncing in what seemed like irregularity, however...

She wrote on her clipboard. “Where are you, right now?”

A sharp intake of breath cued her in even before the sweat beading his brow could. “ _With_ him...” His leg kept up with the pulsing beat of his heart.

She kept her head level, not daring just yet to give Morgana a code red. After all, they were making progress. Often he wouldn’t even respond to where he is in his flashbacks before going into a blind panic and having to be sedated.

It _was_ progress.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“What’s that saying? ‘You can’t always teach an old dog new tricks’,” came the sniffed reply.

Harry leaned against his desk, regarding Eggsy with his full attention as he mouthed at his drink.

“Horseshit.” Eggsy declared, looking away. “You can move like a ninja in a fight, barely breakin’ a sweat. ‘sides, you’re just feeling all jelly-like cause you’re pissed off your arse. Otherwise you wouldn't-”

"Wouldn't what?" Harry inquired, setting his glass aside as he began to remove his cuff links.

Eggsy stared. "Sorry, Haz, are you tired? I can get goin' if you are, it is pretty late-"

Harry hummed, gaze dropping to Eggsy’s mouth as he stood and advanced in a slow, calculated way. "Wouldn't what, Eggsy?"

But it wasn’t the sudden movement that was surprising, it was the look pooling in Harry’s eyes the nearer he drew – pupils blown wide and gaze sharper than any blade- that made Eggsy take too hasty a step backward, startling himself as he collided with the solid oak door. He palmed behind him haphazardly, fingers slippery with sweat, before he found the knob and twisted it- Eggsy choked.

The handle didn’t budge, not even a little bit.

He swallowed hard, trying to moisten his suddenly dry throat as his heart stuttered up into his throat, thick and gagging when he realized the top of the line deadbolt - never mind whatever other manner of lock Harry’d probably installed over the years - was holding sturdy and steadfast against the leverage he had (or thought he did) as an _animate_ object.

But the blasted slab of wood carried out its sole purpose; ensuring maximum security and keeping any would-be intruders away from the quaint home tucked safely in the middle of Stanhope Mews South.

It wouldn’t even allow those finding themselves in need of a hasty exit to escape, and it seemed his mentor had no intention of that any more than his house did as he came to stand not an arm’s length away.

“Harry.” Eggsy tried to laugh off, daring to hope this could all be blamed on how pissed they’d become. “I- Ya know, I _should_ probably get some sleep before we gotta meet up tomorrow.” His breath hitched in time with his pulse, words cut off cleanly and as perfectly as the manicured finger pressing against his lips.’

Any further objection fell to confusion as the taller man pressed the heat of his body forward.

Eggsy’s focus tunneled in on Harry- _always Harry_ \- while his mind raced so frantically that he was unable to keep up with any one of the many scenarios his Kingsman training thus far – never mind his life since Dean - had taught him as the alarms pounded louder and louder against his temples-

And then the pounding shattered into a deafening silence once more as Harry leaned forward, far closer than one would consider polite company to be in before it became almost intimately _threatening_ and-

And still Harry didn’t pause as he used his weight and height to full on advantage, taking over the final, scant inches between them. It was a moment frozen forever in time, one he was sure would burn like a brand into the flesh of his memories; Harry pinned him there between the door and the dark intent clouding his eyes.

Like one of his fucking butterflies.

The man leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Eggsy’s sweaty brow as he hummed once more, the sound a deep, melodic, haunting tune. Harry breathed in heavily, almost like he was reveling in the smoky spiciness of Eggsy’s cologne – incidentally the same as Harry’s- as Eggsy’s brow pinched, heart thundering shallowly against his chest.

“Christ, you smell heavenly.”

Something warm and wet pried into the tight crease of Eggsy’s lips, stealing what little taste it could before retreating and trying again with more force, this time with teeth prying his bottom lip back before delving in.

His eyes shot open, vision shaking.

* * *

“Harry, look, I really should get going. Mum’s gonna be cross if I- Quit it!”

There was something resembling a whine of indignation in Eggsy’s voice, and God smite him into the deepest pits of hell but the plea did nothing but send a thrill up his spine, a pulsing rush of heat flooding his groin. He moaned, biting his lips as the excitement spread into the grin pulling across his face.

There was no match in strength to be had; Harry had the upper hand, yet despite this Eggsy changed tactics. Instead of wrestling against his brute strength he angled his body in such a way that would best utilize his position.

The undulating did nothing to dissuade Harry’s intentions as Eggsy remained trapped, panting from his effort and sweating from how powerless he felt.

“Harry? _Com’on_ , Haz. Just move so we can get on and forget-”

Harry draw back then and a flicker of something lessened the weight in his stomach.

And then hands were moving to cup his face, one of his hips, and while the tone he used was one of amusement, his eyes did little to suppress the heat of his inclinations. “That is unfortunately not something I can allow myself to do, my dear boy.”

“I said no already when you asked. You even told me-”

“My apologies, Eggsy,” came a murmured apology against skin as warm, wet breath clung to Eggsy’s mouth like a heavy, drugging fog. “I am after all... _only_ a man,” Harry finished hoarsely; words, tone and intention coming together in a heated, twisted confession as he took.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains non-consensual/dubious consent/rape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEMI-GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF NON-CONSENSUAL/ DUBIOUS-CONSENT/ RAPE. Also manips that are suggestive of the occurrence.

Harry was inside him, pressed tightly against Eggsy’s back despite the terrible words- the terrible sounds- that Eggsy made every time he moved.

It wasn’t... it didn’t _hurt_ -

It was supposed to **hurt** , wasn’t it? He should feel the hot tears- or was it the heat of his- _their_ sweat? He didn’t know! Nothing about this made sense- He’d told Harry no. Harry had played it off as a drunk joke, but then-

He should be shaking from the invasion, from being torn apart in the such an intimate, vulnerable place.

But he wasn’t shaking from pain, no. Harry had taken his time, using what had to be every trick in the book to hold Eggsy immobile beneath him on the floor as he kicked, scratched and punched at Harry as the man cooed softly at him, stroking up his thighs softly, tenderly even.

And when he pressed his fingers passed the tight ring of muscle Eggsy cried out. That was the only time though that it hurt. Harry had spat into his hand each time he pulled a finger out of Eggsy before adding another and another.

And then Harry man pressed the length of himself against and _in_ to him in slowly, carefully, like the bastard had all the time in the world to enjoy what he was doing, what he was _taking_. He’d invaded him gently, had... Fuck, Harry’d made him come first, his intent on doing so throwing Eggsy into the most furiously confusing, whiteout orgasm he’d ever had. And Harry’d stroked his back, nuzzled his neck as Eggsy nearly wretched all over his goddamn carpet when he found himself back in reality. That felt like hours of shuddering, heaving and rug burn ago.

Harry’s movements, the canter of his thrusts picked up as the warm gusts of air hit the back of Eggsy’s head with every pitched grunt and moan.

And all he could think in shame was that it didn’t hurt like he’d _thought_ -

_No_ , that was wrong, Eggsy thought suddenly, startled by his own punch of breath as Harry moved against, inside of him faster, hips pistoning in, out, in, out, in, labored groans pressed in hard kisses against Eggsy’s neck.

The power of his movements jolt Eggsy flat onto his stomach with an uncomfortable cry punching out of his throat.

“C-Christ, Eggsy,” Harry sucked in a deep breath against Eggsy’s shoulder. His thrusts erratic, hips jerking to an offkey rhythm as he clutched at Eggsy hard, mindful enough not to dig his nails in, to break or mar the otherwise perfect flesh.

“Stop, Harry, pull out- You aren’t even using a condom-!”

“S- _shh_ , no, you’re doing so well, darling…”  Hot breath caressed his neck in an overwhelming embrace that caused an unpleasant roll of gooseflesh to ripple across his flesh.

Eggsy grit his teeth, unsure whether he was thankful or not that he’d shoved his face into his forearm, clamping down on the skin hard enough to bite into it instead of through his own tongue. He clenched his eyes shut, splashes of unidentifiable color bursting across his lids, as he willed his body to not draw in on itself any tauter, to not clamp down around the rigid length entering him desperately.

“ _Oh_ , my precious boy—E _-Eggsy!_ ”

He didn’t get even a second’s relief and his world fell back into darkness.


	4. The Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Music playlist that inspired this insanity + pretty manips!

          

 

It's not organized in any particular way, but here is a playlist of songs that have and will continue to inspire this fic as it grows:

[GOD SING FOR THE HELPLESS - OST](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLlHxr8CWxsgyF0zq6S_C8uIU2xE6bDv-C)


	5. PREVIEW

A preview or sneaky peek at what's to come (thanks to ideas)!

 

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: #3. NON-CON, ALCOHOL, STOCKHOLM-SYNDROME?: During their 24hrs at his home, after the Martinis are brought out and Harry propositions a relationship with Eggsy, believes they both desire it, only to be rejected. Despite this unexpected outcome, Harry has every intention of having and keeping him…etc. Obviously, I played with it, saw the loophole with the “?” and took advantage! Then this beast began to grow...


End file.
